


Good Ol' Days

by narwalish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Memories, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narwalish/pseuds/narwalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi recalls the better days with his team on the Police force</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Ol' Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willneverbreakme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willneverbreakme/gifts).



> Yay! Happy fic!  
> Based off 'Good Ol' Days' by The Script

The scent of cigars is strong around us. I can see our breath, heavy against the cold winter wind. They laugh, and I do too. It's been a while since my team and I went out for a drink, the first time in long time that we've enjoyed ourselves.  
We make our way into the next bar, unbuttoning our coats and quickly making our way to the bar. We still have our uniform shirts on, with our Police badges pinned to the breast, but we couldn't give a shit.  
The Irish whiskey burns at my throat, but I find myself loving every second.  
The other three men are laughing amongst themselves, and I hear Auruo making a snarky impression of me to impress Petra but I don't even care. She looks over at me and smiles, her cheeks rosy from the recent exposure to the cold. She winks, tipping her glass back to drink the last drops, and I chuckle slightly, winking back.

Once we're done in the bar, we interlink our arms and slowly sway back to my flat. We laugh, telling the stories that have made our team closer, and I feel sadness spring up when we remember the sadder times that have made us men.  
But we embrace the weaknesses, they make us stronger people. We turned our troubles into art.

We hear a song being played by a street performer, his guitar song slow and gentle, and yet so strong. They remember the song, but I don't recognise it.  
The guitarist chuckles as the tree men on my right begin to sing along to the tune, the woman to my left detaching her arm from mine to twirl before us, laughing at the terrible lack of rhythm in her dance, yet it's perfect.

She turns to grin at me as the rain begins to fall, the boys singing the chorus so out of tune and so loudly it seems appropriate.  
I smile back at her as she grabs my hand, pulling me in to dance with her.

I guess it's just the way we were raised, to always think about the better days.

\----------  
It's ten o'clock, and we've all been let off duty. Rather irresponsible to let us all out at the same time, I'd like to remind Erwin.  
It could be said that it started as a pub crawl, the five of us trailing down the road to the next alcohol-selling establishment. I don't think it was entirely intended for us to get lost in the middle of London, pissed off our heads.  
Then again, we didn't have work in the morning, I'm pretty sure we could have afforded to wake up in random doorways, hangovers galore.

I can remember wondering into the middle of a town centre, a piano left there for the public to play. I can remember everyone urging me to pal, telling me how good I was.  
I'm not entirely sure of how impressive my piano-playing skills were after the amount of alcohol a shudder to assume I drank, but they liked it.  
We all sang along to the beat, Petra once again choosing to sway slowly to the out of beat rhythm.  
It felt like rebellion, like I was giving us something to look forward to in the future. The times are hard, but I felt like the nights we did this gave us something to hang our hopes on.

As we walk along the streets, strutting aimlessly home, we throw money carelessly into the music cases of the buskers on the streets. I'd like to imagine their names, the hopes they have for the future, I'd like to see the love they have in their hearts.

It's 2am, and it's pouring. If we were sober, we'd have run for shelter, but we didn't give a shit. We ran around, dancing in the typical British weather, and hung off each other as we laughed. We laughed like we never suffered a loss in our lives.  
These are the people I fell in love with. I don't think I could ever stop being proud of them.

\----------  
I don't recall what time we entered the bar, or what time we left it, but I remember everything else. We got pulled onto the stage after someone heard Petra sing, and we ended up playing for nearly the entire night.

We got everyone singing, the guys in the back, the kids at the bar with the fake IDs, and it was beautiful.  
I felt us connect, and as I played the piano and Petra sang, I knew this would be how I remembered my younger years.

\----------  
It's funny, as I sit here on the sofa with Petra, running my fingers over her enlarged stomach, I can remember every moment we've had.  
Every time we used to go out, whether it be a weekend or holiday, week night or on duty, we would always be able to shake off the fear over what we did.  
I can remember at our wedding, when she and I spoke to the boys at the bar, and we laughed, I recall saying,

"Savour this, guys... We'll remember these nights when we're old and gray, 'cause in the future, these will be the good ol' days."


End file.
